Page 30 of In Bed with a Highland Beast

Ronan, why did he have tae take ye?

Lucia would never understand it. What had Ronan done to Callum to deserve this? What had he done that had turned him into a target? And why had it taken Callum months to kill him when he could have done so at any point?

There were so many questions to which Lucia didn’t know the answers, but it didn’t matter. All that mattered was revenge and now that she knew for certain Callum was responsible for Ronan’s death, she would finally have it.

“It is time,” she said, “tae continue with the plan.”

Alaric stared at the letter, wide-eyed, for a few moments longer before he dragged his gaze over to Lucia. “What dae ye mean? What is next?”

“I will kill Callum.”

There was no hesitation in her voice. There was no hint of guilt. Why should there be, when Callum had been so cruel to Ronan? Why did Callum deserve to live while her brother had died?

I will kill Callum.

The words had come so easily to Lucia that a chill ran down Alaric’s spine. Within mere minutes, she had gone from a woman filled with joy at discovering the letters to one brimming with rage, blinded by it. Alaric understood her desire to bringCallum to justice; he, too, wanted the same thing, not only for Ronan’s death, but also for everything he had done in his quest to destroy the clans. But bringing him to justice and killing him in cold blood were two entirely different things, and Alaric couldn’t simply agree with Lucia’s plan.

He had killed people before, that much was true. It was impossible to avoid such a thing in battle, after all, but Alaric had never killed a man in cold blood and he didn’t want to start now. Besides, it was a dangerous plan. He could see it in Lucia’s eyes, how she yearned to repay the debt he owed her in blood. He was certain that she was seconds away from trying to kill Callum in his sleep, but he couldn’t let her do that. She would be dead before she could even reach him.

“I cannae allow it,” he said in the end after a short silence.

Lucia let out a humorless laugh, shaking her head. “I didnae ask fer yer permission. Try an’ stop me an’ ye’ll see what happens.”

Would she not hesitate to draw her blade on him either, Alaric wondered? If he did get in her way, would she stop or would she try to kill him, too?

After all, she hardly needed him anymore. She had used him to infiltrate the Ravencloaks and now she was a part of them. There was nothing left for her to do than get her revenge or die trying.

“Would ye kill me, too, then?” he asked, voicing his thoughts. “Would ye force me out o’ yer way?”

Lucia looked at him for a few long moments, drawing her bottom lip between her teeth and biting on it.

“Ye saw what he wrote in those letters,” Lucia said. “He is workin’ with the king. With the Sassenachs. Dinnae ye want him dead?”

“I want him tae answer fer his crimes,” Alaric said. “It isnae the same.”

“If ye capture him, he will hang,” Lucia pointed out. “What is the point? By killin’ him, I am only makin’ things faster.”

“It isnae the same,” Alaric insisted. Even if the result were the same—Callum dead and unable to continue with his plans or hurt anyone else—doing justice was not in his or Lucia’s hands. He had to answer for his crimes, yes, but not in the way Lucia wanted. “An’ it is dangerous, Lucia. What will any o’ this matter if ye are killed afore ye can kill him? All this effort, wasted. Yer life, wasted. An’ yer braither… he will have nay one tae avenge him or remember him.”

It was that last reason which gave Lucia pause. It struck Alaric then that she didn’t particularly care what happened to her as long as she got her revenge, and the only thing that stopped her from trying to kill Callum in that moment was the thought that she could die before she killed him.

For now, it was good enough for Alaric. If nothing else could convince her to wait and be patient, then this would have to do.

“Fine,” she said in the end, lowering her gaze. “Fine. I willnae dae anythin’ without talkin’ about it with ye first. I promise.”

“Alright,” said Alaric with a small nod, relieved. “Alright. Thank ye, Lucia.”

With a snort, she rolled her eyes at Alaric, pulling her knees up and resting her chin on them. For a moment, Alaric thought she looked terribly vulnerable, like a child who had just lost everything, and his need to protect her was overwhelming. This was a ruthless woman, he reminded himself, someone who wouldn’t hesitate to kill those she deemed guilty, but even that wasn’t enough to stop him from feeling that way towards her.

She had lost too much. Her brother had been the only family she had and he, too, was taken by the man who was sleeping a few tents over, none the wiser. Alaric understood her pain. He carried it as his own, after all.

“Me parents,” Alaric said, clearing his throat and taking a pause as his emotions threatened to overwhelm him. “Me parents were killed, too. It was a long time ago, but I ken how it feels.”

Silence stretched over them for a few moments before Lucia reached for him, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. “Who killed them?”

“The Sassenachs,” Alaric said. “They were brutally murdered an’ there was naethin’ I?—”

Alaric couldn’t finish his sentence. Even now, it hurt too much to remember them, to talk about them. He couldn’t speak of the details of their murder. All he could bring himself to say was that they were gone and it was all because of the English.

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